


Duck Duck Goose

by james



Series: Cats and Witchers, Oh My [12]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Humor, M/M, No baby griffins were harmed in the making of this story, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Werecat!Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james
Summary: Yennefer needs a favor from Jaskier.  She regrets everything.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Cats and Witchers, Oh My [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771585
Comments: 12
Kudos: 207





	Duck Duck Goose

**Author's Note:**

> I do not explain why the Baron needs to die, because this is not that sort of story. Imagine he did something to deserve it, but not in enough detail to distract you from your enjoyment.

Yennefer walked into the tavern, back straight and glaring at anyone who might have even thought about doing the slightest annoying thing – a defense mechanism she'd perfected a long time ago. It came in very handy when faced with men of all kinds, letting them know the second they saw her that maybe they should leave her the fuck alone.

It helped that she was absolutely willing and able to turn them into frogs or lizards and stamp them under her boot. 

She glanced quickly over the sparse crowd inside, spotting her target easily. She walked over and, as she drew near, Jaskier spotted her. He tensed, setting down his tankard. He was dressed as if he'd been performing, or would be soon – but of course he was always dressed that way. She thought perhaps he was simply always ready to perform at the slightest indication of an audience.

For once, however, Jaskier didn't really stand out – the whole town was bristling with flashy colored bards, all wandering around making it look like a mob of exotic birds had bombarded the place. The bardic festival wasn't due to start until the following week, with the actual competitions beginning the week after that. But like all of the rest of them, Jaskier showed up early to check out the competition and jostle for a good place in the lineups.

“I swear I didn't do it,” he babbled at her as she continued forward and stood across the table from him. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Or I did, but I didn't mean to and won't ever do it again.”

Yennefer sighed and sat down. “Jaskier, what have I told you?”

He seemed to be thinking it over – she could have read his thoughts, but generally they were as ridiculous as his outfits. Songs and sex and songs about sex, with the occasional thought about trying to convince the current Roach to like him. Unless there was a small rodent nearby, then his thoughts were all 'don't pounce don't pounce don't pounce.'

“You said...many, many things, all of them brilliant and wonderful and highly, highly memorable?” He gave her a tentative smile.

“This is just how I look,” she snapped. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't do it in a public place because I'd torture you, first.”

“Right!” Jaskier pointed a finger at her. “Resting bitch face, I shouldn't take it personally.” He picked up his tankard again and gestured towards her with it, raising an eyebrow.

As if she would drink that swill. She could smell from here just exactly what it had been brewed with. She toyed with the idea of telling Jaskier, but she needed him upright and listening, not bending over vomiting. Then again, she'd seen him eat questionable things before, so maybe he knew and didn't mind.

He shrugged as if it were indeed _her_ loss, and took a deep swallow. From the small flinch he couldn't quite hide, she suspected maybe he did have a suspicion.

He was still drinking it, though.

“So then if you are not here to torture and kill me,” Jaskier said cheerfully, “May I ask-- oh, he's not here. He headed south a week ago, something about balwarts...hograts... something something I wasn't listening.”

Yennefer wished it could have been easy, but her entire life wasn't easy. She took a deep breath and said, “I'm here for you. I need a favor.”

She watched as his face froze, then slowly transformed into amazement, astonishment, surprise, then settled on alarmed shock. She wished she could have just used Geralt for this. He didn't mess around, he just did what she told him to and the only suffering was when he uttered one of those horrendous jokes. The jokes had gotten worse since Ciri had gotten old enough to talk, she'd noticed. 

But otherwise, Geralt was _quiet_ and did what he was told.

Unfortunately, he was completely unsuited for what she needed.

Jaskier was beginning to look smug, so she slapped her hand on the table. “Stop it. I'm desperate and it isn't what you're thinking.” She hadn't looked into his head, of course, she was just guessing. But Jaskier's head was not typically a complicated place.

“Then how, may I ask, can I be of assistance?” He gave a short bow of his head, looking genuinely posh and courtly.

Yennefer rolled her eyes, except for how this was in fact what she was here for. “I need someone to accompany me to court. Someone who won't get us thrown out in the first five minutes for being boorish and stabbing the wrong person.”

“There's a right person who can be stabbed?” Jaskier looked eager. “Which court? Are we going right away because I will need new clothes, the ones I have are all from last year. Unless that's the image you need.” He looked disappointed at the thought of not getting a new wardrobe.

Yennefer leaned forward, letting her face fall into her hands. She could have just hired an assassin, but no, she'd had to decide she wanted the smarmy rat to know exactly who he'd pissed off. 

Maybe she could send a letter, _then_ an assassin.

~ ~ ~

She did have to get Jaskier a new outfit. He'd asked for five – which she completely ignored and threatened to dress him in clothes that were fashionable ninety years ago. He'd pointed out that would be so much better than wearing last year's fashion. Then he started going on about starting a new trend of revitalising old fashions and she'd had to tune him out. 

Then she'd threatened to see if she could force him to shift, because even if he didn't shut up she wouldn't have to listen to his _words_. He'd given her a very sad look, lower lip pouting out so far she felt like she could snag it if she'd wanted.

She reminded herself she could still hire an assassin and just take the disappointment of Baron VonSchoder not knowing why he was dying. 

Instead she sucked it up and let Jaskier change his mind twelve times about color, cut of the doublet, fill of the sleeves – she ignored him as he realised he could get a short cape, like he'd seen in Redania a month ago, but was that a fashion going out of style or a new one coming in? He didn't know and couldn't take the risk of being wrong and she tuned him out again until finally she picked a green outfit that looked just fine on him and made her look stunning beside him.

Then she grabbed him by the ear and dragged him off to portal them to the Baron's court.

Her instructions for him were clear. He was to behave normally, like he would at a court where he actually wanted to impress people with his manners and decorum, and if anyone asked he would be delighted to entertain them with a song. It was perfect for him, really, being the brightly colored bait to distract everyone and keep their attention without alerting the guards that they needed to run in with swords swinging.

Easy.

~ ~ ~

“I am going to skin you alive,” Yennefer snarled as she dragged Jaskier backwards by the collar. She made a portal and threw them both through it, looked around long enough to get her bearings, then shoved Jaskier towards Geralt.

Geralt, who was standing near a campfire with Eskel sitting on the other side, blinked at them but caught Jaskier by reflex. He gave Jaskier a kiss, also probably by reflex, and he didn't comment on how both Jaskier and she were covered head-to-toe in straw.

“Guess what we did!” Jaskier exclaimed, sounding like a delighted child back from an outing.

Geralt very wisely did not try to guess, but looked at Yennefer. “Is the Baron dead, at least?”

“He is.” That was the _only_ part of the day's plans that had gone right. Otherwise the afternoon had been a horrible blur of running, leaping into a hayloft, and far too many geese for Yennefer's taste. She scowled at Jaskier, then turned her scowl on Geralt because it wasn't fazing Jaskier in the slightest. “I had to hit someone with a stick, Geralt. A _stick!_ ”

There was an extremely muffled snort from Eskel, but Geralt just raised an eyebrow at her. 

“It was awesome!” Jaskier exclaimed. “We were running from the guards – which was absolutely not entirely my fault. And there was this shovel and she caught the lead guard right in the face and he went flying!” He was gesturing with his hands as though to convey the distance the man had gone. Then, slowly, he looked around. “These aren't sewers.”

Yennefer had a split second to wonder if Jaskier had actually hit his head during their escape. But Geralt was swallowing a grin.

Sounding outraged, Jaskier continued, “You said you were hunting monsters in sewers and that I wouldn't like the smell! So you left me behind, but you're out _camping_ with Eskel!” His hands were on his hips and Yennefer saw him take a deep breath for some bardic-trained shouting.

Geralt said, “That was last week. I can let you smell my boots if you want.”

Jaskier paused, then wrinkled his nose.

“We met at the same contract to hunt griffins,” Eskel put in, gesturing towards the mountain behind them. “Figured we might as well go in together. Might be a full nest.”

Jaskier was giving Geralt the very big eyes, and the slightest hint of another pout. Geralt sighed, like it pained him. “And if there are babies we won't hurt them,” he said, gritting his teeth slightly.

Yennefer saw Eskel open his mouth with a look of disbelief, but Geralt shot him an angry look. She didn't need to read minds to know what Geralt was thinking at Eskel; luckily Eskel knew Geralt well enough to nod at Jaskier, who was turning his pout on him.

“Right,” Eskel said slowly. “Of course we won't hurt the babies.” He shot a questioning look at Geralt as if to ask _what the fuck._

Jaskier looked content, but he folded his arms. He pouted for a moment at Geralt, but then he looked over at Eskel and said, “Just don't _tell me_ if there are babies. Tell me it was all big ugly adult monsters.”

With a look of understanding, Eskel nodded. “Got it. No cute tiny baby Griffins,” he said grinning, ignoring the way Geralt growled at him.

“This is why we leave Ciri with _Vesemir_ when we hunt,” Geralt growled.

“How is the hippogriff she adopted, anyway?” Yennefer asked, as sweetly as she could.

Geralt just groaned and closed his eyes.


End file.
